


Six Feet Under

by meiqis



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 03:30:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14729126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiqis/pseuds/meiqis
Summary: Ziyi and Zhengting were lovers that had a very... very bad ending but up till now, he can still hear Zhengting's voice from six feet under his backyard





	Six Feet Under

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wildlings (candybank)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybank/gifts).



> As written for kunscandy and based on a [prompt](https://twitter.com/ziyisus/status/995281064141574144) from @ziyisus

“They declared him dead today. His mother said there won't be a funeral though… It’lld be wrong to have one when she doesn't even have a body to burn…”  
Justin's voice was like a blurred sound coming from far away, Ziyi didn't even listen properly, one hand around his coffee mug with the other keeping his phone against his ear. Whatever the younger was saying, he didn't pay attention actually, too early in the morning, too tired after his sleepless night. He looked that way ; dark circles under his eyes, his hair a disheveled mess for once not worn in a tie, his shirt wrinkled and pants worn out, not the pajamas to expect of someone living in a house that resembled a mansion, interior befitting the most luxurious hotels. 

No, there was nothing to pay attention to when Zhengting was standing on the other side of the kitchen isle, rummaging cupboards and looking for things, his bedhead a fluffy dark golden mess, marks down his neck from when Ziyi had sucked his skin, his waist so slender and slim when he wasn't even wearing a shirt, just those three striped jogging pants sitting way too low on his hips, revealing black lines near his abs when he turned around…  
“Ziyi? Are you even listening?”  
He blinked once, hearing Justin directly address him, twice, thrice. He was alone in his kitchen now, only the scent of burnt coffee rising up to his nose with the steam arising from hot black fluid.  
“Zhengting is officially declared dead and you don't even care? I don't care that it had been months since he's missing, at least you should care about your husband being dead!” 

Beep. Beep. 

The call had ended  
And Ziyi was faced once again with the loneliness of his house too big and his kitchen too light and his life too wrecked. 

Four months

Four months since Zhengting had been gone and left him alone. 

They had gone for their honeymoon before they had even married. All secretly and silently without telling anyone but the kids and their closest friends, those who had accepted them, hadn't even told their families. There had been no news of Wang Ziyi being overseas when people would just assume it was a business trip for his family's company either way. No photos of him and Zhengting together after taking different flights. No reports of them checking into the same hotel and room. No paparazzi at their wedding with their toes curled up in sand, the white noise of the sea moving just a few meters down beside them, the golden light of dawn making Zhengting look like an ethereal angel way too beautiful for him and this world. Their Yes had been breathy whispers in the morning while the scent of tropical flowers filled their noses, the state official not dishing out lengthy and pseudo-romantic talks, only the words that needed to be said and the question they had been waiting for. Their kiss, a soft caress of lips brushing against each other and their rings hadn't been worn on their fingers but incorporated into bracelets so no one would question them in a country so homophobe, in a city so stuck up, in a home so cold when they couldn't even admit to dating publicly.  
It had been a secret and been done in hiding but it had been the happiest moment of his life, seeing Zhengting's eyes turn into molten gold in the morning sun rays, his facial traits softened until one was sure he was an angel born human, filled with love and admiration for him and him alone.  
That day Ziyi had known for sure, no matter what, until his last day, until taking his last breath, until his heart beat for one last time, he'd dedicate and sacrifice everything to this one man alone.  
To the one and only person he loved more than he loved anything that could ever exist. 

“You look like shit, man,” Yanjun declared in his less tender voice, showing a serious and concerned side that usually was reserved to his friends alone. Surrounded by cars, all expensive, all sleek, all shiny metal and smooth surfaces, it was the charme of Lin Manufacturing Coffeehouse, settled on the ground floor of the office building, all silver steel and shiny glass, merely sheer walls of crystal separating them from the machines that were more expensive than a whole Gucci shop and all designed by elegant hands curling an evenly elegant coffee mug. Maybe that was the most normal humans could afford when entering here, indulging in a sense of luxury while surrounded by expensive cars and quality treats, it were Yanjun and Ziyi themselves that stood out.  
None of the hype, not taking pictures bit pictures taken of them. Ziyi had long since gotten used to it. To Yanjun attracting attention everywhere and anywhere. And why not? He was good-looking, he was successful, he was all a woman would want to have.  
And all Yanjun had wanted had been Zhengting too.  
Maybe that had been that angel's charme, drawing gazes everywhere, looking all good and charismatic one moment and the next he would be laughing at a joke with a voice sounding like heavenly bells. He would look like a too gentle fairy but own enough strength to keep his six sons in check. He would walk without no sound and neither did he make any noise to talk about his burdens, shouldering his problems alone and solving them with a gentle-mannered stubbornness few owned.  
It had been no surprise someone like Yanjun who always looked for the beauty in things had fallen for such a beautiful being. But he had also known about battles lost before the war had started and despite his longing gazes, he had kept his hands to himself and Ziyi had kept Zhengting by his side.  
“It's because it's how I feel.”  
Because without Zhengting his life was deprived and robbed of all meaning. 

“Good morning, Ziyi.”  
It was the softest sound, like a tender caress given verbally, soothing his ears and making his heart feel fuzzy and warm as the tall one starred a soft little smile. Waking up like this every day, with Zhengting’s angelic sounds, with fingers soothingly combing through his messy hair, too long to be worn open, too uncomfortable to be worn tied up at night, now the very tips tickling his cheek and he just waited for slender fingers to move them aside.  
“Don’t hide your beautiful face,” his love would then always say, adoration obvious in his tone even early in the morning, “your smile,” then he usually would caress his cheeks before grabbing his chin, lean in for a good morning kiss that ended with Ziyi just pulling him by the arms, crashing that tender body against his own and cuddling some more for several minutes before it was actually time to get up.  
“Waking up next to you… I wish it was a moment that would last forever.”  
Quizzically he hummed in response, moving his body beneath the cover of his sheets, turning from his body to his side so he could reach out and pull his love in, to feel his slender frame against his own, to feel that tiny waist within the embrace of his arms, feel a beautiful face nuzzled against his bare chest, whispered words about how he smelled of a perfect morning or traces of cologne from the previous day or shower gel from the evening before.  
But now there was nothing but an empty bed, perfectly arranged sheets on the half of the bed he didn’t dare touch, too afraid of the loneliness they bore.  
There was no beautiful angel resting his head on his arm and watching him while telling all those sweet nothings. “Because it’s when it’s just the two of us. I wish it would last forever. Just looking at you like this when I know you dreamed about me. When nothing outside can disturb us. When it’s just the two of us in our own world.”  
He could still hear the echo of these words resounding in his ears, telling of all the love he had once received from the only person that mattered. From a person that had once lain with him in this bed, their fingers locked in the mornings with the promise of breakfast set on the table after a shower.  
Now it would only be a cup of coffee and the lingering memories of his deceased lover.

The first time he had seen him had been in a dance studio, back in their high school days when they had never before met. A ballet dancer in a hip hop studio, many of them had snorted first when peeping through the window set into the door, the group of his friends involving him standing outside, making jokes of those tight pants and way too skin fit outfit, making fun of how dumb he must have been to go there.  
All but Ziyi with his never ending patience and softness walking into the room, intruding on this talk between that stranger and their coach, showing a gentle smile while asking him to dance.  
What he had known before was all strength and speed, building a rhythm to break it down, freezes, uncomfortable positions to not lose balance with the body lifted off the ground, all power and impact and turns and twists. There was nothing elegant about b-boying at all.  
Back then he hadn’t even needed to look, with a song starting and a lithe body getting bubbly as he tried to settle with the rhythm and the melody, he had known without turning his head to the door, had noticed with the lack of whispers penetrating from the hallways, that this boy had mesmerized everyone.  
All elegant and all fluid, sliding over the floor and leaning into air, flexibility none of their crew possessed executed with so much body control he wouldn’t need to feel him up to know that this ballet dancer was utterly toned.  
Watching him, it was like watching a little fairy jumping from leaf to leaf, sparkling droplets of morning dew permitting an unworldly glow and sparkles, all light steps and flowers greeting it good day.  
It must have been this very moment he had fallen for this ballet boy, a boy named Zhu Zhengting, not much older than him, holding the brightest smile and the prettiest eyes and the softest voice. A boy that had moved with a fluicity along the floor as had been used to move into his heart. All angelic beauty and torn off wings wrapping around his heart.  
“I love you,” had been the first words he said after the music had stopped and a blindingly bright smile on cheeks flushed from exercise and embarrassment alike with eyes sparkling in humble satisfaction had been shown his way.  
Truly, he had fallen in love.  
And he still was.

“Ziyi! Ziyi, don’t!”  
There were nights like these when it drove him crazy, hearing Zhengting’s voice, over and over again, screaming at him, all the power of his favorite dancer in vain when competing with his own husband, slender digits gripping his arm to hold him off only to be twisted in all the wrong ways when shaken off.  
His little whines and yelps when it had happened, he could still hear them, haunting him, coming back like a Poltergeist, torturing his mind and no matter how much wine drank, no matter how many pillows pressed against his ears, no matter how many yells released into the emptiness of a house that had once been filled with love, it didn’t help.  
He could still hear them. Those tiny whimpers and loud pleads, telling him to stop, screaming, crying, shouting, begging. They were all up his head and his mind, tried to be drowned out by his own screaming and yelling and throwing wine glasses against the walls and smashing bottles on the ground until he wasn’t sure it was the wine coloring his marble floor red or the traces of his own blood from when he had ran through the shards without paying attention to the pain and the scars. It was just physical punishment added to his mental pains, it were tiny memories of his body being well alive and his heart being a dead and wilted rose, with every step until those wounds of broken glass buried into his skin were healed that he had to remember he was still breathing and walking while Zhengting was gone.  
It must have been a sixth sense of maybe it was just his neighbors getting irritated by the noises again, unlikely, houses apart a few dozen meters apart each. Thinking of it just being Linong’s sixth sense, it was somewhat reassuring. The boy always looking as if he knew more than he let on, as if he had figured it all out already, the reasons Ziyi was like this, the reasons there was red spilled on the floor and carried throughout the house, the reason the elder was slumped against an empty wall with another bottle of wine in his hands and looking as if his soul had long since left his body.  
Perhaps it was true, his soul had left with his heart had left with his love when Zhengting had first not come home. And along with it all he had lost his sanity despite all his sane acts. His world was a wonderland of illusions and lies, of waking up and hearing sweet nothings to an empty bed, of eating dinner and answering to questions that had never been asked coming from a seat that wasn’t taken, of seeing the TV turned on at night and wanting to scold for falling asleep with the movies still running to be faced with an empty couch that had never been occupied to begin with.  
His life was a world of madness and longing and none of his friends would ever understand. Yanjun would tell him to go on because that’s what Zhengting would want for him. Justin would get mad at him for not missing his husband as he was supposed to. Chengcheng had stopped eating and forced his food down whenever Ziyi treated him. Zhangjing had just broken off all contact weeks ago with memories that were haunting him whenever thinking of the couple combined.  
There was only Linong, sweet innocent Nongnong looking at him with big eyes, as if he had seen through it all, seen through his madness and craze, seeing through all their history, as if he was already aware, knowing it all.  
Knowing where Zhengting remained.

The reason for how it all had started, he would say it had been Cai Xukun. Crush of the nation, the most praised newbie actor, a whole beauty and in another universe maybe he might have also been one of Ziyi’s playthings if things had turned out right.  
But they hadn’t. It had all gone wrong.  
Which was also the reason as to why it was so very irritating, seeing this man standing in front of his door now, all wet puppy, all black curls glued to his face and clothes soaked, sticking to his body, all eyes downcast and voice silent.  
He wanted to send him away, wanted to tell this man to just fuck off and yet he couldn’t, because he was endless patience and too much softness and the memory of Zhengting reaching for his arm, fingers curving around his elbow and his good mood evident in tone when telling Ziyi to just let them in already.  
Now his arm felt cold with the air from outside, Goosebumps not because of a lover’s caress but weather’s freezing digits, it didn’t make any difference in the end when he just stepped aside to let the rookie actor in, to take off his coats and slip out of shoes, showing him the way to the bathroom to take a shower with a robe provided.  
Searching for spare clothes, an old pair of jeans, a shirt, one of those he had never worn despite having bought it himself. It was one of those he could allow to lose, none of those Zhengting had chosen for him, going to one of those fashion events and what not, indulging in buying whatever he wanted and fans thinking it was his own but in reality it was in his half of the walk-in closet.  
He hated this room, hated it too much, seeing everything Zhengting and how he’d look in that shirt or how he had worn those pants, how that cardigan had been worn during that date and which sweatshirt he had ripped off his body when they had stumbled into their bedroom.  
He hated even more when suddenly there was a hand touching all those overpriced fabrics, all the clothes his husband would never wear again, all the ownings of a deceased, head whipping around when hearing the rustle of fabric, pale skin touching striking dark Gucci shirts, the slender figure at first way too familiar with the one he had once been used to seeing every day like this but there was no golden crown, no shining eyes, no warming smile. There was a person he despised and scorned, a person who had caused all this harm to him and now even dared-  
Xukun must have noticed his gaze, retreating his hand, muttering apologies, accepting what he was handed. “I’ve never… Seeing his- your place like this… I never knew you were this close.” Soft words, as if the rain and the shower had washed all that arrogance and cockiness off his being, no confident rookie actor hitting on his love when he wasn’t around because he had thought that living and breathing angel was single and available and ready to accept his advantages when just his sweet and lovely fairy had been a being too oblivious for his own good, too reassured to not be flirted with thanks to a ring that wasn’t even worn on his fingers and way too nice to not allow them close.  
“You should go now,” Ziyi merely said with no further feelings attached to his words, passing by the younger, memories of unpleasant evenings, encounters, talks, they were all shoved aside. He didn’t like them, those pictures flashing through his mind, making his way through hallways, turning corners, rushing down steps, only to be able to reach his wine shelf and pull out whatever bottle came first to his touch.  
A glass, pouring, a sip. It didn’t help.  
“Ziyi! Stop this! Now!”  
It was back again, those screeches and yells, sounds of furniture moving across the floor when he shoved it aside in his anger, sound of glass shattering and shards scattering around the ground, sound of skin meeting skin and bones crashing and blood splattered-  
“Ziyi?”  
His eyes darted up immediately, that wasn’t Zhengting’s voice he heard this time, not this once, but instead coming from Cai Xukun’s lips, the youngster finally dressed, standing in front of him in clothes that looked too big despite their small difference in height, too big in frame and too loose on slender bodies. It was something he had loved on Zhengting and now hated on this man in front of him.  
A silently asked question, a little gaze down at his wine glass, and Ziyi, ever so patient, ever so charming, got another one and filled it up, sliding it down the isle before he paid more attention to his own again.  
“I miss him too…”  
Glass breaking and red splattered.  
It happened all over again when the glass slipped from beneath his fingers, crashing onto the counter top, spilling and breaking and sullying his shirt but he didn’t care, he couldn’t care, only empty eyes directed at a startled face as if he hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t expected such reaction. Here this reaction was, reaction of someone needing to hear from his own husband’s lover-  
“You should go now.”

The first time he had seen Cai Xukun had appeared to be harmless. His newly wed husband staring in a drama for the first time, used to movies rather than the on-going show, ever so beautiful, ever so bright. Each and every time Ziyi got to experience it, it blew his mind, made him fall all over again, falling for this beautiful angel that he was allowed to call his, going from that ballet boy to being cast on the street, recording a movie that sold too well and called attention too fast.  
Always the two of them, always Ziyi acting as the best friend while Zhengting said it’s only because he doesn’t want no gossip about him dating an actress he takes along his best friend. Except they weren’t just best friends but each and everyone of those people just closed their eyes because they were served a perfect explanation and no more was needed.  
But a drama was a first, the script reading longer, a cigarette gone. He didn’t smoke often, he actually didn’t like it, but he always kept a package in his car, one of them now between his fingers and his lips, sucked on, inhaled, smoke going up. Looking too expensive for this set while leaning against his car, his eyes always fixed on the building exit to look for his own and personal sun, to find his lover walking out, face brightening the instant he saw his dark haired man only to run over with his little penguin wobble and in the cover of a hug he would receive a kiss to his cheek and sweet little nothings.  
Except he wasn’t alone this time. Coming out with a man not known, eyes too big, nose too straight, lips to plump. It was the very image of a doll, too beautiful to not make people envious or fall in love and too pretty to still assume looks were spread evenly amongst people. Bright eyes too big looking at Zhengting in ways he did not like, as if he were an angel walking humane grounds. It was the gaze Ziyi knew he himself wore when around his newlywed husband, ever since the first day, every morning when waking up, when brushing through his hair, when caressing his cheek, when wiping some jam off the corner of his mouth when they were having breakfast-  
“Are we leaving yet?”  
A gentle voice startled him and his track of thoughts and pictures, looking at this beaming man in front of him, cigarette dropped to the ground carelessly as he instead reached to gently caress a foreign hand, find the bracelet with his wedding ring to tug at lightly and Zhengting’s smile only got brighter.  
“Whenever you want.”  
Urges to pull up his hand, to place a kiss on it, take off his shirt and leave loving traces over his arm and shoulder, his neck and jaw, only to kiss those innocently bright smiling lips. He was stopped when seeing the buffering expression on that unknown actor’s face, the way it was so very obvious he was processing his thoughts still, and Ziyi only gave him a cold glare before helping his honey-haired angel into the car.

“Does it look good on me?”  
Slowly he rose his gaze to look at Yanchen, starring a new blazer that carried the bee symbol that seemed to be so beloved by this brand lately. He couldn’t help it, looking at Zhengting’s best friend saying such words that were so… Zhengting without imagining what his love would have looked like in this, how he would have worn puppy eyes on his beautiful face until Ziyi gave him an opinion that was always positive, always bright, it was impossible for a fairy to look bad, this little pout turning into a smile again when he received a compliment in return and then just handing it to an employee, telling her he’ll take it and always it would be Ziyi pulling out his credit card despite grand protest coming from his lover telling him how he had enough money to pay for himself and that he could afford it and he would still be all about this in the evening when they laid in bed until he was made to shut his mouth by another pair of lips pressed against his-  
Snap.  
Fingers snapped in front of his face brought him back to reality and looking at Yanchen who was now portraying concern, carried on his face that was definitely made for the big screen. It seemed like all his friends now were either actors or CEOs, one half was originally his friends the other half…  
“It looks good,” he said quickly before he’d spiral down the memory lane again, something even the long-legged part-time model must have been aware of as he quickly looked for ways to distract the secret widower, talking about watches and whether Ziyi would want anything for himself too, where they should go to eat later and how to plan their day.  
With time he had realized it was Yanchen’s way of showing concern, Yanchen who had shown up first after Zhengting had gone missing, who had made sure to call him often, who had never before talked to him more than three sentences at once and now took him out for dinner once a week. It was Yanchen who must be missing his best friend within the acting world too much, who had wanted to hold up his memory by seeing his home often, seeing his pictures around, who had taken pity on him who couldn’t care for himself well for weeks.  
It was Yanchen who had heard enough from Zhengting about Ziyi to honor his best friend’s love for this man and take care of him when that earth walking angel had been torn off his wings and disappeared with golden dust in the morning sun rays.  
“Zhengting would have loved seeing you wear this.”

 

“Ziyi!”  
It was a violent yell, one of the kind he had never before heard from his humane angel, always speaking in his soft tone, always caring, gentle, he had heard before that he was intense when angry from his so-called kids, from Justin and Chengcheng alike, but it wasn’t like they had often fought for real, with raised voice, aggressive actions, no holding back. Zhengting and him, they were a perfect couple, hardly ever fought, resolved matters easily, thanks to Ziyi’s own gentle nature, thanks to his fairy’s easy-going character.  
But now he had snapped, the ever patient hotel heir, ever so lenient, ever so soothing, never angry, never upset. Unless someone touched his husband in less than appropriate ways and a certain rookie actor had definitely done so. Touching his oblivious love, not realizing all those approaches, those longing gazes, the desire in doll-like eyes.  
“He kissed you!” Ziyi exclaimed in return, making his way down the hallway, away from their bedroom, from Zhengting’s confession, the talk of a scene that had happened already weeks ago, not once, not twice, it made him so angry, a blazing fire of fury burning in the pit of his stomach. Except he wasn’t able to be angry with his husband, his great love, his beautiful angel, not with him, too kind, too gentle, unable to turn down someone who was like a kid to him, unable to see the bad in a peck to the cheek, to the lips, only spilling about happenings after a handful of events, only telling when it had been a deeper kiss, a more intense one, right after the end of his busy recording schedule, at the end of these drama preparations. This wrap up dinner, he now regretted not having gone there, that he hadn’t accompanied his slender walking treasure, taken care of him, listened to his guts telling him this kid was to be worried about.  
No, he had listened to his love, always listened, telling him not to come over after all those meetings, a flight in the morning, the leading figures of their business meeting up, new deals, new concepts, just more and more work to be ended with them meeting at home and ending these exhausting times cuddling in bed. He always listened to him, to Zhengting’s gentle words, to his dramatic tone, so clearly enunciated and pronounced, he loved listening to his talking and his words.  
For the second time he didn’t listen, ignored slender digits reaching for his hand, yanked them off, heard the surprised gasp, remembered the last time, when he had shaken off this hand. It hadn’t been long ago, their reason to fight the same, this little rat, he hated him so much, hated how it made him react, his overflowing jealousy. The last time it had worked, it hadn’t been too long, for him to turn around, look at his husband in worry, watch him with grand puppy eyes, startled with himself to have hurt him, he, who had promised to never hurt him, to always support his love, go through good and bad.  
This was worse than bad.  
Zhengting, ever so stubborn, ever so tedious, reached for him again, tried to reason, called out his name, over and over again, as if it would make him come back to his senses, realize how wrong this was. He already knew it, knew how wrong this was, that he was being too jealous, too upset.  
How had this kid been supposed to know, how had he-  
“Ziyi! Stop this n-”  
The yell was cut off, yet again shaking off this beloved set of digits, gripping his arm, reaching for his wrist, and a bit too much force. Jerking his arm forward, making Zhengting stumble, too close, too near the stairs, too-  
Eyes wide as he watched this slender body fall, limbs twisted in all the wrong ways, crashing against the railing, hitting the wall, the corner, too much speed to react, steps too tough to not leave bruises, crack bones, too much pain to still guard his slender body, twisting further, tumbling down, until his head hit the floor with a loud noise.  
There was a voice in his head, telling him what to do, to call an ambulance, to explain this situation, what had happened, that it was an accident, that it hadn’t been his intention, to see his other half stumble down stairs, break his bones and head, those widened eyes, losing light, looking at the ceiling in shock, those soft lips, moving just a tiny bit, as if to utter some more words, give a last confession, only to breathe one final time, trembling stopping, chest not anymore rising and sinking. Just a limp body laying in all the wrong angles.  
And then panic settled in.

Too much time had passed, too many weeks, too many months, too much loneliness in his own house. It seemed to be getting better, less times of Linong having to visit him and treat his wounds caused by shards again, less times of Yanjun pointing out how shitty he looked, more times of Yanchen visiting after growing attached to his best friend’s widower, more efforts from Justin’s and Chengcheng’s side to keep peace as if to honor their so-called mom’s remembrance.  
They weren’t supposed to show up altogether, too many people at once, too much not work related effort, too much for his tortured mind that seemed to become more and more crazy with the times he spent alone at home, seeing Zhengting, hearing Zhengting, his soft words, his gentle I love yous, his yelling when they fought that final time-  
“Ziyi,” Yanjun ripped him out of his thoughts, eyes jumping up from where they had previously looked at his wine glass, slipping his grip when suddenly being called out to and crashing down onto his lap, spilling, not breaking, not this time.  
Immediately making Nongnong startle in his seat but Ziyi just showed him a soft smile. It was the first time they were sitting outside, spread over that couch and various seats placed on his terrace, all loud, all hyper, all a birthday cake on a small table when the person to celebrate wasn’t even around.  
His smile must have been satisfying enough for Yanjun not to worry further, repeating what he must have said earlier already, “The doorbell rang but Yanchen said it might not have been a good idea to let him in…”  
Warning words were in vain when he heard steps from inside, looking over his shoulder to look at the only person walking these grounds he would hate, those doll-like features, big eyes, soft black curls. The last time they had seen each other, on that rainy day, the audacity to say he missed what had never been his…  
“I’ll go change my pants,” the owner of the house just uttered as he stood up, placing his glass on a table, crossing stone tiles and the glass door, passing a person that was too beautiful to be called a human and yet looked so ugly in Ziyi’s eyes, not worth a glance, not spared a greeting. He just disappeared to do as he said, get rid of this soaked fabric, wipe off the wine, get a pair of sweatpants that would be more comfortable, walking past lines of clothings he instinctively brushed his fingers over as if it would bring the dead back alive.  
“You’re too clumsy, always spilling drinks,” a gentle voice called out and he could see him, his own little angel, standing at the door, a teasing little smirk on his lips when Ziyi approached but disappearing again when he was too close, blinking, once, twice, he was still alone. Always just alone, even when walking downstairs and out again, he could only feel alone at heart, even with his family around.  
Yanjun with his boyfriend, name long forgotten, eating too much, too often. Zeren telling Quanzhe to stop eating, to not gain fat, Xinchun and Wenjun supporting his words. Yanchen talking to Justin and Chengcheng, those troublemakers back at it again, back to fighting, pushing each other in their playful acts, fooling around, Chengcheng sending Justin flying, the younger stumbling forward, too close, too fast.  
Ziyi’s hand snapped forward, reaching for the kid’s shirt just in time, eyes not focused on the blond, looking at the ground, at the remnants of flowers not yet back from their winter’s rest, all neatly planted, all alone in his garden.  
“Don’t step on Zhengting...”

**Author's Note:**

> reach me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/zhengjunist) if you want


End file.
